


Disseminate

by KilledTheQueen



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Background Relationships, Dark Angel AU, Hacker Stiles Stilinski, Hurt Stiles, Lots of sarcasm, M/M, Manticore (Dark Angel), Physical Disability, Protective Derek, Sarcasm, Science Fiction, Seizures, Sick Derek Hale, Thief Derek, Wheelchairs, parapalegia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 18:47:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5138636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KilledTheQueen/pseuds/KilledTheQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek didn’t ask to get made. He didn’t ask to be trained from birth in covert ops and warfare. He was just a biochemically engineered kid with some wolf DNA spliced in, and the unhappy luck to be born with a conscience. All of the X5 generation were. They may have been effective, physically and mentally, in every training module, but everyone at Manticore still knew they were soft. They helped each other, refused to leave men behind in training simulations. They worked as a team, and that is not what the government wanted or what Manticore planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Escape

 

YEAR 2032:

Derek didn’t ask to get made. He didn’t ask to be trained from birth in covert ops and warfare. He was just a biochemically engineered kid with some wolf DNA spliced in, and the unhappy luck to be born with a conscience. All of the X5 generation were. They may have been effective, physically and mentally, in every training module, but everyone at Manticore still knew they were soft. They helped each other, refused to leave men behind in training simulations. They worked as a team, and that is not what the government wanted or what Manticore planned.

Derek was twelve when he and his brothers and sisters decided to escape. It had been a snowy evening, Peter (X568) had insisted it was good for cover, no one would expect them to launch an escape in such bitter temperatures. In a way he had been right. That night when the guard came on his third round, long enough to ease his mind that nothing out of the ordinary was going to happen, Peter attacked. Knocking the flashlight from his hand, breaking it at the wrist, as Erica (X574) jumped on his back, cracking his neck, and Boyd (X572) caught him before he hit the floor. A quiet and effective kill.

From there it wasn’t all that difficult to make it out. They stayed in tight formation, Derek leading Erica, Boyd and Cora (X580) while Peter lead Isaac (X579), Malia (X569) and Lydia (X572) slightly further ahead. The guards at the entrance weren’t hard to take down, all grouped around a small monitor, watching men with sticks as they swung at balls and ran around a big green field. It took only moments for Lydia to pick the lock and the rest to take their jailors by surprise.

By the time they reached the exit, the rest of the facility was on to them. Derek could only assume someone had found the dead guard in their dorm and sounded the alarm. Outside was cold and with their uniformly shaved heads and paper thin regulation sleep attire, it was lucky their spliced DNA ensured they ran hot.

The first shot rang out only moments after their feet first touched the cold hard packed snow. Derek remembers Peter yelling out for them all to scatter and evade. Protocol 181, rendezvous 0800 at the assigned place. Derek hurried to the left, into the treeline, large pines sure to give him more cover than the open slope of the mountain Manticore was located on. Cora followed quickly, out of everyone she was the closest to him. Like what he imagined a real sister would be like, she looked up to him and he did his best to protect and teach her.

Behind them Derek could hear the sounds of motors starting up, snowmobiles no doubt. And soon they were hot on their trail. Derek and Cora sped faster, thanking their enhanced reflexes and strength that pushed them along.The snow was still wet, and their feet slid often, leaving wide swaths of displaced snow behind them and no way to cover their tracks. It wasn’t long before lights began to appear behind them, the guards would be in firing range within seconds.

“Change course” Derek whispered, knowing Cora’s enhanced hearing would pick it up, despite the wind and their pursuers. She nodded slightly, following Derek’s quick change of direction, tumbling over the side of a cliff, too dark to know how far it would go, but knowing the other direction promised only death. It was about a thirty foot drop. Derek landed gracefully, somersaulting to a stop beside his sister, only a bloodied nose and bruised shoulder to show for it.

They were alone for a moment, the snowmobiles not daring to follow after them. Using the reprieve to put more distance between them and Manticore. They reached the perimeter within minutes, climbing the barbed wire fence as Malia came running up behind them.She was at the top, almost over, when a shot rang out and she fell back into the snow. Cora seized in fear. She’d always been the most timid of them, but Derek held her back from going to Malia. Pushing her forward instead, away from the fence and Manticore. There was nothing they could do for her now.

They were deep into the woods, a great distance from the facility they’d been born and raised in, when Gerard Argent’s voice echoed through the trees. “X5s” he began, Derek immediately tackled Cora to the ground, pushing her behind the trunk of a large pine. “There is no escape. You are in the middle of nowhere, armed men have every road in and out of the area secured. If they don’t get to you, the elements will.” There was a static quality to his voice, as it cut off. Lending something different to his voice than if he had been standing close, he was most likely using a megaphone or some sort of PA system to reach as far as possible. “However, if you come back willingly, I promise only two weeks of harsh training and reprograming. I will spare your lives and the other X5s that return with you.” Derek growled quietly under his breath. He’d rather die than go back to that place, he knew his siblings felt similarly. Grabbing Cora’s arm, he made the decision to keep running.

There was a clearing up ahead, and the ground flattened out into a large cool surface that reflected the light of the stars overhead. “I-is it ice?” Cora asked, neither of them had ever seen anything like it. Derek only nodded, stepping out carefully onto the surface. His barefeet slid out from under him immediately, but he managed to just keep his balance. “Be careful” he said, “it’s not stable.” They made their way across slowly, sliding their cold toes along the surface, as quietly as possible.

“You there!” a voice cried from the treeline, and suddenly they could see several pairs of headlights making their way closer.

“Run!” Derek commanded, both of them raising up to the balls of their feet to run. They only made it a few yards before Derek heard a loud crack and suddenly all the air in his lungs seemed to freeze. He could hear Cora’s yells as she looked for him, but in the dark he doubted she could even seen what happened. The frigid water began to drag him down into the murky depths of the lake, he could only hope that Cora continued on without him. She was too soft, she wouldn’t survive whatever punishment Argent had cooked up for them at Manticore.

He held his breath for what seemed like hours, but could not have been more than ten minutes,  that was his record when it came to submersion. Lights passed over the ice, and the shout of guards rang out as followed by the dull thud of combat boots overhead. He waited until both disappeared, until he was sure as possible that they had gone. Then he made his move, reaching out to search for the hole in the ice he’d fallen through. Finding it, he grasped the shelf of ice, raising his body slowly from the water, so as not to attract attention. The woods around him were silent, the search parties, and hopefully Cora, having moved on.

Derek walked quietly, his body shivering in the soaked pants and shirt Manticore had outfitted him with for sleep. The wind was biting and despite its constant presence, never helped to dry him even a bit. He marched on, at one point inching around a group of guards who were obviously meeting to regroup before going out again to round up any X5s they could. Within an hour, he came to a wide highway. He knew what it was from study, but had never actually been on one before. So it didn’t occur to him, until a small car rounded the corner, that it wasn’t the most covert place to stand.

The car slammed on it’s brakes, passenger door flipping open as Derek lowered his stance, preparing to defend himself. “Get in!” a man said, leaning over from the driver’s seat, “Get in before they come.” he reiterated, “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.” Derek wasn’t sold but behind him he could hear snowmobiles approaching. He threw himself into the car, the door closing swiftly behind him. “Get in the back,” The man motioned, “cover yourself with the blanket and stay quiet.”

Derek did as he was told, hiding his shivering form under a well used fleece blanket and rolling up as small as possible in the footwell behind the passenger seat. It wasn’t long before the car rolled to a stop and the man slid his window down. “Ah good evening Dr. Deaton,” An unfamiliar voice said.

“Hello Frank” The driver answered, “Some trouble?”

“Just field exercises doc. Nothing to be concerned about. Just have to check every car in and out of the area.”

“Sure, sure” the driver agreed, “Well it’s just me tonight I’m afraid.”

“Of course, never can be too careful though.” A light shown through the window above him and Derek stayed as still as possible hoping with all he had that the blanket would mix in with the floor of the car in the darkness. His body wanted to shiver, the ice from the lake still cooling his core temperature, but he forced himself not to move. Moving meant being found, moving meant going back. The light passed on in time, and Derek let out a shuddering sigh when the driver, Doctor Deaton the man had said, was given permission to move along.

The doctor did not talk to him for a long while, until they eventually came to a stop and he opened the back door and removed the blanket. “Come now, lets get you inside.” Derek followed.

The man had a kind face, dark skin with intelligent eyes, but he looked weary. He lead Derek into a small house, taking a look outside once more before closing the door behind them. Derek was given a meal, new clothes and some advice, “You need to blend in X5, you need to get as far away from here as you can and make sure you cover up that barcode on your neck.” Derek held a hand over his barcode, every soldier had one, giving their number and making it easy to look up their records, Derek was X571. “It’s a dead giveaway,” he continued, “the wrong person sees that and you’ll be back at Manticore before you can say Secret Government Program. Here…” Deaton handed over a leather jacket, the collar standing up and stiff along his neck. It was much too big for him now, but it covered his neck easily.

“I have to get to the rendezvous, 0800 hours.” Derek said.

“I’m sorry son, but wherever you planned to meet the others, you have to assume it’s compromised. You need to run, recuperate and then you can start to search, see if any others made it out. Right now, it’s not safe.”

“But-” derek frowned, in his mind he knew what the doctor was saying was right. Their rendezvous point was too close the mountain, they would be found out. His heart though, it needed to know if Cora was alright, Peter, Erica, Boyd...all his siblings.

“You’re  a soldier right?” the doctor asked, Derek simply nodded, “Then you know that the rest of the team will have come to the same conclusion. It’s hostile territory with no hope of an exit. Live today,” he said, setting a warm hand on his shoulder, “to fight tomorrow.”

That had been the last night he’d seen any of his siblings. Deaton had given him clothes and food and pack to carry them in, as well as all the cash he had on hand and driven him to the Washington state line. He could only hope that one day he and his siblings would find each other and be able to live together in peace.


	2. The Meeting

YEAR 2044:

 

“Derek!” Finstock yelled from the cage, “Got a hot package that needs to find it’s way to 43rd and Crescent Avenue!”

Derek sighed, “I just got back from a two hour tag and lift, why can’t Whitmore do it?” he motioned to the blonde messenger who was currently sitting around in front of the television.

“Because cupcake, I asked you to do it.”Finstock called from where he was sorting incoming packages in the cage. Derek glared at Jackson who only smirked in his direction as he continued to watch whatever drivel was on. “Listen,” Finstock said as he passed over the package, “It’s an upscale address in sector 1, could be a good tip in it for you alright?”

“Alright” Derek nodded, taking the square package and sliding it into his messenger bag. He could always use the cash.

“Hey!” Jackson moaned as the TV went out, static flowing across the screen before a familiar pair of eyes filled it instead, a set of red and blue bars lining the bottom and top of the screen, the words Streaming Freedom accompanying them.

“Not this guy again” Finstock sighed.

“This is an Eyes Only Streaming Freedom Video. This hack will last exactly sixty seconds, it cannot be traced, it cannot be stopped, and it is the only free voice left in this city.” Voices around the room started to raise as they realized Eyes Only was on, rushing to surround the small screen. “It’s been nearly ten years since the EMP blast was set of over United States air space, erasing hard drives, eliminating banking systems and effectively turning the country into a third world nation overnight. This tragedy left families destitute and afraid, unable to afford even the most basic necessities, but what about the rich? How is it that certain families were able to maintain their foothold in society when so many others now live in poverty and squalor?”

“This guy is amazing” Ethan (or was it Aiden?) said. Derek could only huff. “What, you don’t think he is?”

“I think he’s some nerd hanging out in his ivory tower trying to make himself feel better by calling out some of his rich friends.”

“That’s pretty pessimistic” Scott said, “maybe he’s just trying to help.”

“Yeah, sure kid.” Derek rolled his eyes.

“The secret protecting some of California’s most elite citizens is simple.” Eyes Only continues as pictures flash across the screen, “Lets take the De La Rosa Family, their main source of wealth comes from a certain series of poppy fields in Northern Mexico, want some proof? Here it is.” A number of images and files flashed over the screen and Derek rolled his eyes, it’s not like anything was going to happen to one of the state’s wealthiest families. Whoever this guy was, he was just going to end up getting himself killed.

“I’m out of here.” Derek told Scott, his best friend and roommate, as he grabbed his bike from the rack and headed back out into the fray.

Derek didn’t see what all the fuss was about. He’d been around before and after “the blast.” Lived on the streets for two years before suddenly there were a lot more people in his position. Except now people had to be more creative to make a buck, were more obvious in their willingness to screw someone over to get what they wanted. Derek didn’t see a difference either way. Hell, the blast had probably benefitted him more than once, no one thought twice about hiring a young kid after what happened, child labor laws disappearing overnight along with everyone’s cash. But that’s what comes of having all your wealth tied up as a bunch of ones and zeros in some computer system. After the blast Derek had been able to make legit money as a bike messenger, instead of relying on the kindness of strangers and his own light fingers.

Derek slipped in and out of traffic as he pedaled along the only remaining functional highway in the area. Not that there were cars to worry about any more. Most sat abandoned by the side of the roads, their owners unable to afford the exorbitant amount of money it would take to fuel them. Around half now serving as shelter for people even further down on their luck than Derek. The traffic now largely consisted of pedestrians and the rare sector police vehicles, and of course messengers like him.

Being a bike messenger served Derek just fine, allowing him easy access between sectors. Which for him, meant greater avenues of escape should someone come looking for him, as well as access to more resources. Resources he was currently paying a lot of money to track down any signs of kids with barcodes on their necks. Covertly of course. At least that was what he was paying that no account private investigator Harris for. So far the guy had turned up nothing.

Derek made sure to hike the neck of his leather jacket up as he came to the sector post between one and two. Not that he thought any of the goons who worked for the sector police would know what the barcode meant, but he didn’t need to risk getting caught on camera and setting off some kind of alert.

“Beacon Hills Messenger” Derek said, walking up to the gate between sectors and holding up his employee badge.

“Destination?” the man asked in a bored voice.

“43rd and Crescent.”

“Move along.” The man nodded and Derek pedaled forward into sector one.

It was truly amazing the difference one fence made. Sector two where Derek lived was dirty, neglected and filled with people who would have at one time been considered middle class. There were frequent brown outs (losses of electricity), rarely enough food to go around and more often than not some guy trying to shake you down for whatever little you had. Sector one in comparison was...well not unchanged, the effects of the blast were still evident, but perhaps not so different. Markets with fresh produce lined the street, cars still moved along at regular intervals and Derek just bet no one in the sector had to heat water up on a camping stove for baths.   

Pedaling past a small, well manicured park, Derek turned on to a busy avenue that would lead Derek to a more residential neighborhood. He parked his bike outside a posh building, the doorman, yes an actual real-life doorman, giving him an assessing once over as he entered. No doubt wishing to deny him entrance, but knowing doing so would disrupt the business of whatever tennant called for his services.

Inside the building was pristine, white marble and silver finishes with sleek modern furniture and little else. A little too sterile for Derek’s tastes, but then again he grew up in a military facility, so who was he to judge? He took quickly to the elevator, wanting to get this over with. The delivery address on the package reading floor 10. The tenth floor was quiet when he exited, only one door in the hallway, luckily for Derek as there was no apartment number on the box.

He took a moment to smooth down his hair, and straighten his messenger bag. You always got tipped more when you looked presentable in sector one. He knocked loudly, readying his delivery sheet for the recipient to sign. It was only a moment before the door slid open revealing an elderly woman with a band of overly large pearls around her neck.

“Hello” she smiled, “you must be from Beacon Hills. My nephew told me to expect you.” Derek tried to smile in return, but his mouth always formed an odd shape when he attempted it, too tight and thin. The woman didn’t seem to mind though, taking the offered sheet to sign her name.

He looked around as she took her time reading the details, her apartment was posh, as to be expected in sector one, red walls with original floral paintings lining the walls. Derek could probably fetch a fair price for them, were he in to robbing little old ladies. He however tried to keep on some type of moral path.

Outside the large picture windows the clouds moved overhead and out of the corner of his eye Derek noticed a spark of shine through an adjacent window. He focused his eyesight, allowing his enhanced genetics to expand his range so he could peer into the loft across the street. There on a pedestal, sat a silver statue of Fenrir. The Norse Wolf god. It was almost too perfect.

“Here you are young man” The woman said, handing the paper and pen back to Derek as he passed her her package. “and something for you, I should think.” she continued, handing Derek a tip.

“Well thank you.” Derek said, trying not to roll his eyes at the shiny quarter she placed in his hand. “I’ll try not to spend it all in one place.” The woman just smiled and closed the door, whether not sensing his sarcasm, or simply not caring, it was hard to tell.

Derek sighed, there was no way he would have enough to pay Harris and keep the sector cops from evicting him and Scott if he didn’t do something soon. Looking around and spotting no security cameras, Derek made his way cautiously to the stairway at the opposite end of the hall from the elevator.

He climbed to the roof without encountering anyone, and from across the street he had a good vantage point of the window he’d glimpsed the statue through. The apartment seemed to be the penthouse, not surprising as the statue looked to be very valuable. Luckily for Derek, there also seemed to be several skylights in the roof of the apartment that would grant him easy access. He didn’t waste much more time, only taking a moment to determine the best method to travel from the roof to the adjacent building before making his way back into the stairwell. Surreptitiously placing tape over the locking mechanisms to both the roof and ground floor doorways before getting back on his bike and leaving.

Scott got home before him that night, which was both nice and incredibly annoying. Nice because Kira, Scott’s girlfriend (“soulmate, she’s my soulmate Derek!”), was also there and currently cooking up something on their hotplate that smelled amazing. Annoying, because it would be harder to sneak out later without being noticed.

“Hey Derek!” Kira called, wiping her hands on a towel before bringing him into a warm hug. Derek hugged her back, still feeling a little weird about it even after two years of friendship, he just wasn’t a tactile person. Scott smiled from his place on the sofa, as if seeing his best friend and girlfriend hug was the best thing ever. Which, for the fluffy simple doofus, it probably was.

“How was the sector one run, man?” Scott asked. Derek sat down beside him, after making sure Kira didn’t need any help.

“Great” Derek huffed, leaning his head back to quell the headache that had been building.

“Did you get a good tip at least?”

“Yep, here you take it.” Derek said, flipping the quarter from his hand towards Scott.

“A quarter? They gave you a lousy quarter for going up all that way?”  Derek just shrugged, what could he say? He wasn’t about to argue that it was horrible or that the old woman might as well have stiffed him. It was all obvious.

“Dinner’s ready!” Kira smiled, coming into the living room and sitting three streaming bowls on the coffee table.

“Have I ever mentioned you’re the best?” Scott asked, as Kira took a seat beside him.

“You may have mentioned it once or twice” She smirked, lifting her own bowl of noodles to dig in.

“Well let it be noted.” Scott noded, as he grabbed his ramen and started picking at it with his chopsticks, the way Kira had taught him.

“Seconded” Derek smiled softly, as he slurped a noodle from his bowl.

It may not be conventional, their little family, Scott a young orphan who, besides being a bike messenger, divided his time between doting on his girlfriend and hustling pool to make ends meet. Kira, a sweet but street smart bartender who knew how to handle herself in a fight. And himself, a government engineered killer, but over the past few years that’s what they’d become to him. And while they might never fill the hole his brothers and sisters left, it did make the time spent searching for them more bearable.

He started shaking after the third bowl. Minute tremors running up his hands and arms, making it impossible to grab any food. “Der, are you okay?” Kira asked, knowing the signs by now. The bowl fell from his unsteady fingers, rolling over the coffee table before spilling over the cement floor of the apartment. His body stiffened next, quaking in ugly spasms as  he fell to the side on the sofa. “Grab his pills!” he hears Kira shout, but he can’t see her, his position on the couch making it impossible to see anything but what is right in front of him as his body continued to convulse. Scott appeared quickly, his big brown eyes full of worry as he wedged two pills into his mouth and followed by a glass of tepid disgusting milk.

“Easy Derek,” Scott cooed, taking the glass away and checking his mouth to make sure he’d swallowed the pills.

The seizures were Manticore’s big fucking going away present. He’d seen it happen to other kids in his class, X5’s being carted away as their bodies spasmed, never to be seen again. They lost Liam that way. It turned out that something in the biological ooze they created them out of, hadn’t been exactly right. At times their brains didn’t produce enough serotonin, resulting in the complete loss of control of his body.

He found ways around it of course, milk helped and believe it or not, tryptophan. Yeah, the shit found in turkeys, who knew? Usually he bought pills from one of the remaining herbalists in the area to stave the seizures off, but lately he’d been a little low on funds. Lucky for him, Scott after living through Derek’s first seizure in his presence, always kept a few on hand in case of emergency.

“You alright, Der?” Kira asked, once his body fell still. Derek nodded, not trusting his speech just yet. Kira smiled, though he could tell she wasn’t convinced. She and Scott left him alone though, pulling blanket over him and switching off the lights, knowing it was better to let him rest and recover after an episode. Oddly enough, it worked out well for Derek later when he wanted to leave unnoticed.

His advanced healing made it so that after only a couple hours he felt right as rain again and ready for a little nighttime excursion. He could hear the sounds of Scott and Kira sleeping through the tattered thin walls of the apartment, but even so he stepped carefully around the coffee table, trying not to disturb anything as grabbed his bag and walked over to his motorcycle.

Yes, he kept his motorcycle inside the apartment, anywhere else it would have been stripped for parts in the first five minutes. His Ninja with it’s sleek black frame and supple leather seat, was the only thing Derek had ever let himself spend money on, besides essentials. He justified the purchase by entering the world of illegal street racing. The cash that came in from that venture more than covering the cost of the bike. It had also allowed him to set himself and Scott up in a small apartment with luxuries like running water and heat. They’d been living in an abandoned Mercury Villager before that.

Derek wheeled out his bike as quietly as possible, knowing that Kira was a light sleeper. If she caught him, there would be no end to the mother hen act until Derek was back in bed. He made it out of the apartment and into the freight elevator before he breathed a sigh of relief. If anyone had told him back at manticore, that he’d one day be creeping out of his own home so not to disturb a 20 year old woman who weighed a hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet, he never would have believed them.

He made his way out on the streets quickly, zipping up his leather jacket and donning his helmet to avoid identification from any hover drones. One of California’s latest in a line of intrusive constitution repealing crime fighting tools. The drones hovered over the entire city, but of course mainly focused on sector two, recording the comings and goings of it’s citizens to be reviewed and assessed by sector police.

On his cycle the sector point between one and two wasn’t so far, and soon he was at the gate getting his ID checked before making his way into the more affluent area. He parked his bike in the small alleyway next to the building he’d delivered the package to earlier. Not too worried about thieves happening upon it in this area, and stored his helmet on a hook under the seat.

The door to the stairs was still open, coming ajar easily as he made his way up to the roof. The night was quiet, not a lot of foot traffic at eleven pm on a Tuesday, but still he checked his surroundings. No hover drones and no sector cops, so at least that was in his favor. He opened his bag carefully, pulling out a lightweight gun with a small extendable grappling hook attached to the end.The street between the two buildings wasn’t too wide but even with his enhanced abilities he didn’t want to risk jumping it.

He made the shot easily, he was best in his class at target practice after all, the hook punching through an outer wall on the roof of the building and holding tight nicely. There was metal rebar sticking out from the roof he was standing on and Derek tied the line off on it. Giving it a few swift tugs to make sure it’s stable. He didn’t do this often, the whole breaking and entering thing, but it’d been a bad month, low on tips and lower on dough then he’d been in a long while. Barely enough to keep him in tryptophan and cover the rent, not to mention the increasing amount of money Harris wanted to find his family. These sector one snobs went to sleep at night with no worries about what unexpected costs the next day would bring. So no, he didn’t do this often, but he doesn’t really feel guilty when he does.

With that thought, he strapped a hook to the line and pushed off the roof. For a moment, with the wind soaring through his short hair and the cool air the only thing around him, he almost felt free. Like his worries weren’t so big, nothing he couldn’t overcome. It was bullshit of course, but it’s nice to feel that way once in awhile.

He landed softly, the soles of his boots barely making a sound in the still night. From the roof it was easy to make it over to a skylight. Looking down through the first one he could see a dimly lit room, just faint lighting illuminating what looked like a kitchen, not what he was looking for. Derek stepped softly over to the next, this one over a hallway, but he can see the statue set up only a few yards from the entry point. Derek leaned down, bracing himself on the slanted roof and  reaching down, pleasantly surprised to find the skylight is the type that opens to let in fresh air and is unlocked. No doubt the tenant felt secure in an apartment so high up.

He lowered himself down through the opening gently, his landing light and hopefully unnoticeable, before looking around. The place was well furnished, dark woods and comforting colored walls that make the place seem more like a home than the old woman’s apartment from earlier. It’s still upscale, furnishings all probably costing more than his beloved bike, but it’s tasteful and homey. The statue is close by, just down the hall to the right, placed on a pedestal by the window. Derek crouched down slightly, trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible as he began to step carefully across the wooden floor.

“This is an Eyes Only Streaming Freedom Video.” Derek froze, ducking back into the shadows as a light flooded out from a door to his right. Apparently the tenant had found now a good time to watch television. Just great, just Derek’s luck. “This hack will last exactly sixty seconds, it cannot be traced, it cannot be stooped - ah god damn it.” Derek’s heart stopped. That is not how the Eyes Only videos start. There is always decidedly less profanity.

Derek took a deep breath praying to whatever gods exist that he had not just stumbled upon the most elite hacker to ever inhabit Northern California. Easing himself forward, Derek stretched just enough to peek around the doorframe. Shit, Goddamn shit fucking bastard! Sure enough, in front of a computer screen surrounded by monitors was a man, to the side Eye’s Only’s Streaming Freedom video was running, the blue and red lines at the top and bottom advertising the name of the hack. To the other side a screen showed a close up of the young man’s face without the lines. The guy was recording a fucking illegal hack.

Derek ducked back into the shadows, he had to reassess. Robbing Eyes Only, or whatever his goddamn name was, has somehow made this whole endeavor different. Though he’s not sure why. He’d never cared for Eyes Only, always thought he was probably some kind of rich hypocrite, and would you look at that, turns out he’s right. But the guy had to have amazing security right? He’s a freaking bleeding heart hacktivist for crying out loud, surely there are cameras and a security system, but Derek looked around and didn’t see signs of any.

In the end it doesn’t really matter though, Derek decided. He needs that Fenrir statue, needs the money it will bring him to keep up with rent and pay that useless PI to get information on other Manticore escapees. If there were cameras they'd’ have already caught him anyway. His only chance now is to grab the prize and get the hell out.

He dips past the open door quickly and quietly hoping that Eyes Only is too busy recording to notice him. It’s only steps from there to the pedestal the statue sat on. He grabbed it quickly, thankful that it’s not an Indiana Jones situation with a pressure plate underneath it. He’d just stuffed the item into his bag when a voice sounds in the dark. “Put your hands up or I shoot.” Well that explains the lack of technological security, Derek figured. Don’t really need all that when you employ a bodyguard. Derek raised his hands over his head, turning around slowly to signal he’s not a threat.

The man was tall, large build, maybe even larger than Derek himself, dark hair and favoring his right leg, Derek assumed due to an earlier injury. “Jake, what’s going on I’m trying to record...oh.” Another voice says, Eyes Only no doubt having come to investigate. There’s a strange rolling sound and Derek watched as the man came to a stop in the hallway, his hands braced on the wheels of his chair. Huh, did not see that coming, Derek thought. “What did he get?” The man, or boy really, he can’t be older than Scott, asked.

“The wolf statue” The bodyguard replied, coming towards Derek with a hand reaching towards his bag.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you” Derek smirked.

“Well good thing you’re no-” Derek strikes suddenly and proficiently, swiping the man’s legs out from under him with one kick and knocking him back to the floor hard, before landing a hard punch to the temple. He’s out immediately. Eyes Only looked up at him with wide eyes and a shuddering breath, “He was and ex Navy Seal.”

“No he wasn’t.”

“What do you mean, no he wasn’t?” The kid demands, rolling slightly towards him, looking over the man on the floor, but seemingly unafraid.

“All Navy Seals are trained extensively with knives as well as their service weapons. His hands don’t have any scars.” Derek shrugged. He’d never met any special forces members without scars on their hands, they simply couldn’t develop the skills that position demands and not sustain them. Derek knows because he went through the same training.

“Huh” The kid said, looking down at the bodyguards hands before looking back to Derek. “Where were you trained?” Derek stayed silent. “Okay, not much of a talker, I get that.”

“I’m leaving now.” Derek said, starting towards the skylight he came in through. He’s not sure if he’s shocked or not when a hand grasps his forearm as he tried to pass.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Derek didn’t answer, “The statue?” The kid motioned to Derek’s bag. Derek still remained silent. If the kid thought he was going to give it back after all this, then he wasn’t as smart as he pretended to be on television. “You know, the one you came in to steal? The Fenrir? I mean you do know what it is you’re stealing right? Or did you just think “Oh shiny”?”

Derek crossed his arms. He knows what he looks like, what he was designed to look like. He’s strong yet sleek with a jawline that wouldn’t look out of place on the cover of any magazine. His skin is flawless, his hair full and soft and his eyes draw people in with their unique heterochromia. That didn’t mean however, that Derek wasn’t smart. “Fenrir” he replied, lifting the statue out of his bag, “Norse wolf god, son of Loki, first recorded in the Poetic Edda in the 13th century, but most scholars sight earlier sources. The gods bound him, and as a result Fenrir bit off the right hand of the god Tyr.” come to think of it, Derek might be tempted to keep the statue for himself, he could more than relate. “Are we done with the educational portion of this robbery?”

“Wha?” Eyes squawked, “Who are you?” Derek just raised an eyebrow, “Okay, stupid question, the guy who is currently robbing me is not going to give me his deets, but seriously, dude. I mean...dude.”

Derek scrunched his nose, “Don’t call me dude.”

“Okay, fair enough.” the man, boy, shit he looked too young to be on the most wanted list, nodded. “How about I call you employee?”

“What?”

“Well I seem to be down one bodyguard, and you, my well built, yet surprisingly knowledgeable friend, seem to be in need of money. Seems like kismet to me.”

“You want to hire the guy who just assaulted your security guard and is currently trying to steal from you?” The kid nodded, “How have you survived this long?”

“I can pay you.” Derek started walking away, he’d had about enough crazy for one night. “Hey wait!” He could hear the wheels of the boy’s chair turn behind him, but he kept walking, reaching up for the length of rope he left in the open skylight. “Information!” Derek stilled.

“What?”

“I can’t help but notice,” Eyes motioned to the back of his own neck as Derek turned towards him. “It bares an uncanny resemblance to the ones placed on children’s necks in a certain secure facility I am supposed to know absolutely nothing about.”

“What do you know?” Derek growled, moving threateningly towards the boy.

“Not much” Derek couldn’t detect a lie. “But I’m an elite hacker, it wouldn’t be hard for me to delve deeper.”

“Are you threatening me?” Derek’s incredulous, this guy, already down two limbs, was trying to threaten him?

“No! No, hey, I’m not like that. I’m offering to help. I mean you must be alone right?” Derek didn’t respond, “I heard there was some kind of escape attempt a few years back, but if you’re so hard up for cash that you are robbing me of obscure Norse museum pieces, I have to assume you’re on your own.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“No, of course not. I’m sure you’ve got someone excelent on the case.” Derek flinched, and boy did Eyes Only notice it, if his growing interest was anything to go by. “Listen, I pay well, I’m pretty low maintenance and in exchange for your time, apart from being paid an obscene amount of money, I’ll help you look for the others.”

“Why-” Derek took a deep breath, trying to center himself. Talk of his siblings always brought the wolf part of him to the surface. “Why would you help me?”

Eyes Only looked away, his hands running along his wheels shifting himself minutely back and forward. A nervous tick if Derek had to guess, “Well, obviously you know who I am, you caught me recording when you came in…”

“I’m not going to tell anyone.” Derek sneered.

“I didn’t think you would, it’s just, as me, a person who searches for corruption in the hopes of exposing it, you come across a lot of stuff. From what I’ve read about Manticore...you deserve some help, some answers at the very least.”

“I don’t need your pity.”

“God is being this difficult part of your overpriced genetic make-up? No, you don’t need my pity. You need my skills, and I…” The boy motioned to his legs, “obviously need yours.” Derek couldn’t really argue there. “So, deal?”

This was not how Derek expected his night to go. 

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based off of the TV Show Dark Angel, and in particular this story set I posted on Tumblr forever ago: http://killedthequeen.tumblr.com/post/72398151629/fiction-prompt-dark-angel-au-derek-and-his#notes
> 
> Warnings are for later in the story, and should I feel it appropriate I will add more as I go.
> 
> Comments and kudos are appreciated if you like the story, and it of course encourages me to write more and faster. :)


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